Oodles Of Time
by PissyNovelist
Summary: When Clarice walks in to her home to be greeted by Doctor Hannibal Lecter, she has mixed feelings. As the time goes on, she finds these emotions unfold. Will all turn out as planned for the Good Doctor? CHANGED RATING FROM M TO T
1. Eight O'Clock

**I get bored so easily now a days XD I've always loved Hannibal Lecter and Clarice Starling. They are just so special to me. So here is a fanfiction based on it. This is a different style than I normally do… so wish me luck :D**

_8:00 pm_

Clarice Starling unlocked the front door to her small home, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Her home was located 5 minutes out of town, so not far away from her workplace and the rest of civilization, but she enjoyed the quiet. But something was off about her home tonight… something out of place.

She could smell food.

The enticing aroma wriggled up her nostrils, yet she couldn't enjoy it at all. Her colt .45 was removed quickly form her holster and held it in front of her body at arm's length.

"_Who would be cooking in my kitchen this late?" _Clarice thought to herself, then rolling her eyes. How could she not know the first moment she walked in? She attempted to keep her joy and small amount of fear hidden as she crept outside her swinging kitchen door, and leaned in slowly.

_CREEEEEEEEK_

"_God damn door." _She took a mental note to face palm herself for that blunder later. But right now, a larger matter was on her hands.

"Hello, Clarice. Would you like me to oil that door for you once we eat dinner?" Doctor Hannibal Lecter, the man who is suspected to be in Italy, stood in her kitchen within a black apron. She moved her body into the room, placing her piece back in her holster but refusing to take her hand off the gun. Clarice let out a sigh, shaking her head.

"That's very rude of you, Clarice. This isn't like you. You were always very polite back in our days in the dungeon. Did something bad happen at work today, Clarice? Here," he enunciated every word with such finesse as he slowly grabbed the brown coat off her shoulders ", let me take this. Please relax."

Clarice wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry at the sight before her. She was actually in the same room as the Good Doctor. The man she had hoped would show up somewhere for a year and a half now. Still… now that she found him, she was unsure of what to do with him.

"My apologies, Doctor Lecter. I'm simply in… shock. I didn't expect you to be here at my house... cooking… uh, I really hope that's pork and not what I think it is."

"Oh Clarice, to wonder and attempt to figure out the entrée would ruin the surprise, and you know how I love to surprise you." Clarice heard the smirk behind his words, and that almost made her crack a smile. That little tad of well hidden giddiness slipping out was rare, and she was glad to have experienced that moment.

"Oh yes, I'm well aware…" She trailed off, looking at the table that was covered in white lace and white candles. It was all so… lovely. She relaxed, letting her hands fall to her sides as she sat at the seat next to the Captain's chair. She assumed he would be sitting there, anyway. Before she could open her mouth again, he set down a small salad in front of her. She smiled softly, and lifted her hand to be greeted with three forks. She hid her giggle, moving her hands over the silverware.

"Inside to outside, Clarice. Oh, and please eat without me. I truly don't mind." He called to her without turning.

"Thanks." Clarice smiled wide, grabbing her fork and taking a bite. She was famished from running all day without a break.

Moments of silence passes until the clock struck 9:00pm.


	2. Nine O'Clock

**Lets just get onto the next chapter :)**

Clarice chewed slowly on the last piece of baby spinach that was doused in a lovely Italian dressing, bit of ripe tomato, and feta cheese. Quietly, placing her fork down within the bowl, she watched the Good Doctor place the entrée upon the golden rimmed china plates. He plated slowly, like a painter putting the finishing touches on his masterpiece. The way he cooked truly was like art.

"Clarice, I have a more appropriate article of clothing waiting in your bedroom. If you would please go upstairs and change, that would make me very happy. Also, if you would, tie your hair back? I know it isn't my choice, but you do look… enticing with your hair pulled back." He dared her in the face, a soft smile coming over him. Clarice's heart seemingly stopped for a moment… that smile made the air sneak out of her lungs. She was no match to that smile and piercing eyes. Clarice simply nodded, agreeing to his polite demand and making her way upstairs.

Even in the dungeon, she contently had to remind herself that Doctor Hannibal Lecter was a cannibalistic monster. His kind mannerism, charm, and way of speaking washed away all monstrous thought of him. She wouldn't have believed that he bit the face off a nurse without a picture of the deformed face provided by Doctor Chilton. With her thoughts running off, she almost ran into her white, wooden door. Clarice shook her head, walking into the golden room and shutting her door behind her.

There, hanging off a hook on the wall, stood a dress… her _dream _dress. The black, silk corset top was rimmed with lace that had red glitter embedded within it. At the waist, a silken red ribbon wrapped around into a huge bow at the back. The bottom layers, layering in black and red, tapered to the ankles. Clarice gasped at the beauty of it. A black box lay beneath the dress on the floor. She took the both and set it on her bed, and opened it. Black ballet flats with a red, sparkly rose in the center, greeted her eyes. Clarice held in a childish squeal, removing them from the box and placing them on her pillow for the moment. She unzipped the transparent plastic cover, and laid the gorgeous dress upon her black bedspread. She took her time peeling off her work clothes, stretching as she stood in her pink bra and panties. She slid on the dress and shoes, and wasn't surprised how they fit like a glove. Doctor Lecter knew her so well.

Turning on the lights to her en suite, Clarice stood in front of the mirror. She brushed her brown hair back, tying it back with a black hair tie. Clarice tilted her head to the side, a cheerleader tight ponytail bouncing back and forth. She didn't see the beauty Doctor Lecter saw in her. She ran a finger down her pale, flawless face and faked a small smile.

"What's becoming of you, Clarice? Hannibal Lecter is in your kitchen," she placed her hand upon the mirror softly ", and you haven't lifted a finger. Are you going insane, Starling? Why are you feeling this way? He left for a year… These feelings were supposed to disappear." She didn't feel regret for not calling for backup, and she didn't really understand why. Yet, she shook all those feelings off. She couldn't leave the Good Doctor waiting much longer. Turning off the lights, she headed downstairs to her dining room.

Doctor Lecter stood in a stunning Armani suit, his hands folding behind his back.

"Do you like the dress, Clarice?" His eyebrows rose slightly, already knowing her answer.

"I love it. Thank you." Clarice smiled, taking the seat beside her man of the hour. Without another word, she both ate their fairly small entrée. Half way through, Doctor Lecter opened his mouth to speak.

"I didn't want to do a big dinner, due to the time of night and hoping that this meal wouldn't be the main attraction."

"Understandable." Clarice managed to breathe through a fit of giggled. Nothing was more awkward than listen to such a refined man speak an innuendo sentence. The Good Doctor did nothing but smile something genuine before looking back down at his plate. They finished their mean in silence, and the Doctor cleared the table.

"So… why are you here, Doctor Lecter?"

"First of all, please call me by my given name. I believe we are well into this relationship to forget the formalities. Secondly, why would I tell you that so easily? Are you ready for another round of _Quid Pro Quo?_" He took Clarice by the hand and led her into the living room and sat her on the couch. Hannibal sat next to her, tilting his body for them to speak to each other with ease.

"Go, Hannibal." She spoke, his name still foreign to her tongue. Clarice didn't think she would ever be used to it.

"Clarice," he placed his hand upon hers hesitantly, as if she was made of glass ", I am here because I missed our intellectual conversations. Also, I want to be here. Now, why haven't you made the slick yet… futile move to call for backup?"

"I… I… Well," she fought her brain, trying to find the correct wording ", as you once told me '_the world is much more interesting with you in it'. _I happen to think likewise of you. My turn. Are you surprised that I haven't made a move?"

"To be frank, yes. Clearly you've done some emotional growing up. Now, please tell me… and don't lie, or I'll know. Have the lambs stopped screaming, Clarice?"

Clarice looked down to her hand that was covered by his. Using her free hand, she traced patterns within his skin. Closing her eyes, she took a breath…

"Only when I'm dreaming of you."

Hannibal stared at her in silence, while the distant clang of the clock striking ten filled their ears.


	3. Ten O'Clock and Beyond

**I'm sorry for the long wait, but I was unsure of where I wanted this chapter to go. The story itself doesn't seem to be turning out as well/long as I wanted to. But I'll try and gun through it. I changed the rating because I didn't want this to be smutty. It didn't work for me :)**

_10:00 pm_

"Only when you're dreaming of me," Hannibal repeated, cradling Clarice's china doll face ", how adorable. You're quite remarkable, Clarice."

"How so?" Clarice tried to hide the few tears starting to fall down her face, but her efforts failed.

"You are the only person in the world that has the ability to make me speechless repeatedly. Also, 'how is _that _so' Clarice." He showed off his white teeth, creating a chain reaction to Clarice's smile. She let her face lean into his hand that caressed her. Hannibal rested his lips on Clarice's forehead, taking in the scent of her. Her vanilla and raspberry face cream, strawberry/silk shampoo, and the faint smell of her sweat left from work. He stored away the sight and smell of her at this exact time, to a special room of his Memory Palace. Anytime he missed her… craved her… needed to satisfy his addiction of Clarice, he resided in this room. The room reserved for the memories of Clarice Starling.

"I never thought by the end of today, which started out terrible, I'd be in your arms." Clarice mumbled, resting her head on Hannibal's strong shoulder.

"How was your day terrible, if I may ask Clarice?" Hannibal was pushed by the girl's strong hands, and watched her roll her eyes and take a deep breath.

"Well," her anger exploded out of Clarice like an accented volcano ", Jack asked me to do 'bout five billion thangs. Not only that, he try n' asked me out plenty. All day, between him askin' me to do his job for 'm. I swear, that man can't do nuttin' for himself." Clarice huffed, and crossed her arms over her chest.

Hannibal took another mental picture. Clarice had a… glow when she was in a rage. He tuned out all other sounds, and listened to the huffing of her ragged breathing, the rustling of her dress against her skin, and muttered profanities. The sound of her calming, and swallowing the saliva residing in her mouth. He sighed, pulling Clarice onto his lap. Hannibal already felt his incredibly proper stature dissolving, and his inhibitions falling behind. At this point, he only could think of one thing, and one thing only; Clarice Starling. Yet, she beat him to the punch.

Clarice cupped Hannibal's face, and touched her lips to his for only a moment. Those brief seconds, when fire and ice touched… an incredible reaction occurred. Fireworks and pure heat shot through Clarice's finger tips. The experiment was a success. Before she could think, she had already pushed Hannibal on his back and mounted him. Her lips found his once more for a heated, romantic kiss. Hannibal gripped Clarice's small waist, appreciating this moment. For years, they have both secretly yearned for this time that they would meet and touch. He slid his hands up and down her body, appreciating her perfectly sculpted form.

For the rest of the night, time stood still.

When Clarice came to her senses, she was in the back of a moving van upon layers of blankets and pillows. Her dress was hanging upon a hook in the van, and she was wearing Hannibal's shirt with a set of her track pants. She observed bags of luggage, most certainly filled with her own belongings. Clarice would find out later the only thing left behind was her badge. Still groggy, she lifted her head with a grunt.

"Good morning, sunshine." Hannibal whispered just loud enough. Clarice crawled up to the front seat, remembering the events of last night. He claimed her, and she wanted to be claimed. She agreed to run with him. Run to Paris, Milan, or Italy. Anywhere they would go, they would be together and in the end… that's all they both really wanted.

"After years of four play, it finally happened." Clarice laughed far too hard than she should have, and was surprised when Hannibal began to laugh along.

"Finally, my love... Finally, my beautiful Clarice."

**That's it for this story. My first story with two amazing characters! I do look forward to making more fics with these two, so all Hannibal/Clarice fans, keep your eyes peeled. I have a one shot coming out soon for Hannibal**

**Ta Ta, P. Novelist**


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